Secrets and Lies
by DreamingIce
Summary: During Robin's five year absence from Nottinghamshire, Marian discovers the dangerous and consuming nature of secrets and lies. RobinMarian. Preseries. Temporarily on hold.
1. What You Miss

**Title: **Secrets and Lies  
**Fandom: **BBC's Robin Hood  
**Notes: **Inspired in part by Canne's 'When the Bough Breaks' and comments made by Marian in episode 5, Turk Flu. (and a few other specific comments made throughout the series)  
**Disclaimer: **Anything recognisable isn't mine, please don't sue. I'm only a poor student. You won't get any money off me. I do own, however, Anne and her family, and Alice. But that's it!

Enjoy.

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Marian stared dully at the food on the tray in front of her. She had absolutely no inclination to eat anything. Gently, she placed the tray on the small stand beside her bed attempted to bury herself beneath her blankets once more.

It had been a full month since his departure and yet she still couldn't think of him without the ache in her chest coming back. Damn Robin, she couldn't even hate him, not really. She had certainly tried, after all he did break their betrothal just a month before their wedding. She had most people fooled, but she couldn't quite fool herself.

She still loved him. Foolish and reckless as he was, she still felt for him. And was trying desperately to mask her worries for his safety with anger.

She'd been doing better recently, but today... today was a bitter reminder that Robin was in the Holy Lands, along a large part of her heart.

This should have been their wedding day.

Marian fiddled with the old pendant she still wore, the one that Robin had given her when they were still both children, and wondered if he remembered what today was meant to be. Or was he too busy trying to find glory, fighting in a war thousands of miles away. _And running away from me_, she thought bitterly.

A quiet knock on her door interrupted her thoughts, and she heard her father's voice call her name softly.

"Marian?"

"Come in, Father," she replied.

Edward looked worried as he entered the room, his sharp eyes darting from Marian, curled up in her bed, to the tray of untouched food on the stand.

"Marian, you must eat something if you want to get well," he reminded her gently. "Have you had the medicine the physician gave you?"

"Sarah made me take it earlier."

"Are you sure you wont eat?" Edward tried one more time.

Marian just shook her head. "I'm just not hungry, Father."

Edward sighed, and went to take the tray to return it to the kitchens when Marian spoke up again suddenly.

"Do you remember what today was meant to be?" she asked softly.

Her father paused, mentally kicking himself for not realising the reason behind Marian's particularly morose mood today before now. "Your wedding day."

A single nod was all the reply he got.

Edward leant forward and kissed her on the forehead gently. "He was a fool to leave you, my daughter. One day, he will see that too." He then picked up the tray and left Marian to her own thoughts once more.

What she failed to mention was that she was scared that her illness was more than the physician had diagnosed. Probably because she had not been entirely truthful when telling him what her ailments were. If she was right... her reputation would be in shatters, and as Sheriff of Nottingham, her father would suffer as well. And Robin, thousands of miles away in the Holy Land, wouldn't have the slightest idea of the mayhem he'd left in his wake.

Her bleeding was late. She and Robin had only... been intimate... once, about a month before he'd cut and run. They were betrothed after all, they hadn't seen the harm in bending the rules. They hadn't counted on war taking him away.

But now, seventeen, unwed and possibly carrying Robin of Locksley's bastard child, Marian was cursing over their foolishness.

She desperately needed to find a way to either confirm or discount her fears. Without anyone, especially her father, finding out.

* * *

A week later, Marian ducked behind the stables as her cousin's young children raced out of the house. It wasn't that she was avoiding them especially, more avoiding everyone for the moment. She needed time to think and gather her thoughts.

That, and she didn't think she could face so vivid a reminder of the secret she carried in her belly.

And that was why she had escaped from Nottinghamshire to visit her cousin Anne and her family, although she had told her father that she merely need to get away for a while. He of course, had suspected that part of her desire to leave was to distance herself from memories of Robin—memories that would pop up without warning all over the place. If he was going to think that, she wasn't going to correct him.

Anne had been ecstatic to see her once again. Six years older than Marian, the two of them had been great friends, running wild around Nottinghamshire with Robin and Much on her visits to the area. Even after her marriage, the two of them had kept in constant contact and Anne was still Marian's greatest confidant. Which was why Marian had come to her this time. She would understand.

The night after she arrived in Northamptonshire, she broke down and related everything thing that had happened in the last few months; the betrothal, Robin going to war, her worries and fears, and her suspicions. Anne had promised her that she would find a midwife who could determine whether or not she was with child, and one who could be trusted to keep her mouth shut.

Which was why she now was hiding, as she desperately tried to regroup. Marian sank to the ground and buried her face in her hands, not even trying to hold back the tears. She was pregnant, and she had no idea how she was going to handle this. Her father would be livid, she would be disgraced, and Robin—miles away in Palestine—wouldn't have a clue.

Marian lowered a shaky hand to her belly and rubbed it anxiously. It was hard to believe that there was a child inside there. Her child. Her and Robin's child. "What am I going to do, little one?" she whispered.

"Marian?" Anne's head popped out from around the corner. Taking in Marian's tear-stained face, she rushed over and cradled Marian in her arms. "I would assume that Alice confirmed it rather than contradicted it then," she stated softly.

Marian nodded. "What am I going to do, Anne?"

"You are going to stay here and get through this," she said firmly. "I will help you through this Marian, I promise you. You'll get through this." Marian clung to Anne like a lifeline, wishing rather than believing it to be true.

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**Reviews are nice...**


	2. A Little Pain

**Here we are then! Chapter 2. Thanks everyone for the positive feedback. I intend to expancd this story out to about 5 chapters, so I hope you enjoy!**

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**Chapter 2: A Little Pain **

Another three and a half months past by, and Marian—about six months into her pregnancy—was glad of the approaching winter that allowed her to hide the ever growing swell of her belly underneath heavy cloaks and dresses without raising many suspicions.

She had sent word to her father expressing her desire to stay longer with Anne, although leaving out the exact reason, of course. She wasn't ready to face that yet, if ever.

She spent a lot of her time with Anne, who helped her with the pregnancy and warned her of things yet to come. She also spent a lot of time with Anne's two children, Luke and Sophie, who were four and two years old respectively. It filled Marian with a longing to hold her own child, even if just for a moment; she knew that she would never be able to claim her child as her own, and it haunted her. Anne and her husband Hugh had already agreed that they would take Marian's child and raise it, love it as one of their own. But knowledge that her child, which she believed would be a son, would be in a good home did not ease the guilt, or lessen the pain she felt at the thought of having to give her baby up.

She'd look at Luke and Sophie, seeing the blend of both Anne and Hugh's features in their small faces, and wondered what her own child would look like. Would he take after her with her fairer skin and dark hair, or would he have brown hair and the lean, athletic build of his father? If he took after his father in looks, he would certainly drive girls mad. Robin definitely had his share of admiring girls, both in Locksley and Knighton.

Sighing, Marian wrenched herself out of her daydreams and gathered young Sophie up into her arms to put her to bed, smiling slightly at the sleepy protests that came from the girl's lips.

"But Cousin Marian, I'm not sleepy," she yawned. "I wanna stay up with you..."

"But I'm going to bed as well, so there isn't any point staying up with me," Marian told the girl as she tucked her in.

Sophie opened her mouth to reply, her response was cut off by a strangled gasp from Marian as she clutched her belly.

"Cousin Marian?" Sophie's voice wavered as she saw the pain written on Marian's face.

"Go, find your mother, bring her here," Marian gasped out, and Sophie scampered out of the room, tiredness suddenly forgotten.

Marian sank onto the vacated bed, still clutching her belly. The pain had come suddenly, like a stabbing pain in her abdomen. What was wrong with her, with the baby? It was too soon for this to be happening! _Oh please, Lord, _she prayed, _do not harm my child. He is innocent, do not pin my wrong doings on him. My sins are mine and mine alone. Please Lord, let my son be okay._

Marian wasn't sure of how long Sophie had been in fetching Anne, but to her it felt like an eternity.

"Marian?" Anne's voice was sharp with worry. "Marian, Hugh's going to move you to your room, and I'll fetch Alice."

Marian muttered some incoherent rely as she felt herself being picked up and carried to her own room.

Anne and Alice were already there when Hugh brought a moaning Marian in, and they shooed him out of the room after Marian was deposited onto her own bed.

"Lady Marian," Alice spoke calmly. "You have to try and relax. Try and take deep breaths."

Anne took Marian's hand as she tried to comply with the midwife's advice, and suddenly Marian looked younger than her seventeen years.

Marian tried to prop her head up to look at the midwife. "Alice, why is this-" she gasped and dropped her head back down as another wave of pain hit. "happening? It's too soon!"

"I know. But now it's started, it can't stop." Alice's voice sounded worried.

"But what about the baby?" Marian whispered. Alice remained silent. "Alice?!" Marian questioned frantically.

Anne smoothed Marian's hair down. "Marian, you need to calm down," she said seriously. Marian just whimpered. "Marian. Marian look at me!" Anne caught her cousin's face between her hands and forced Marian to look at her. "Listen to me. You have to be strong. You can do this."

"Marian, I need you to push soon," Alice told her. "It's going to hurt but you have to keep pushing."

Marian screamed as the next contraction sent a dagger of pain down her core, belatedly remembering to push as instructed.

She let out shaky breath as the contraction waned.

"That was good, Marian, keep going!"

"You mean," Marian moaned, "I have to do that again-ahh!" Marian's back arched as she struggled though the next contraction.

About an hour later, Marian's labour was finally over.

"Alice," Marian called weakly. "My baby. How is my baby?"

The midwife carefully wrapped the small bundle in her arms before turning to face the young woman. "I'm sorry, Milady," she whispered. "The babe was stillborn."

"What...?" Marian whispered.

"There was nothing I could do. The child was already dead." She looked into Marian's eyes. "It was nothing you did, Milady," she said, recognising the self-blame beginning to pool in the young woman's eyes. "Sometimes these things just happen."

Marian choked back a sob. "Was it a girl or a boy, Alice?" she whispered.

"A boy, Milady," she handed the bundle to Marian, who then sobbed into her dead infant's swaddling, Anne's arms around her shoulders.

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	3. Hiding the Key

**Okay... Chapter 3. Enjoy.**

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**Chapter 3: Hiding the Key **

A week had passed since Marian had given birth and the child—whom Marian had named James—had been buried just four days before.

It had been a small, simple burial, with just Marian—out of bed for the first time since the birth—Anne and Hugh present as the priest uttered a prayer for the soul of the stillborn infant.

Marian didn't cry. She didn't feel like she had any tears left to cry anymore; the pain hadn't faded by any means, but she seemed to be fresh out of tears. Which was why she was here, sitting underneath the old oak tree that overlooked her son's grave, fiddling idly with her necklace as she stared vacantly out into the distance.

Truth be told, she didn't know what to feel at the moment. It felt like she'd just gotten used to the idea of having a child of her own—even if she wouldn't be able to raise it as such—only to have her child snatched cruelly away from her. A small part of her felt almost relieved, and for that she hated herself. She hated herself for ever wishing, even if only for the briefest of moments in the back of her mind, that she could get rid of her baby. Maybe she did make it happen. Maybe she did bring this all down on herself and her child. _Oh, God, it really is my fault. I killed my baby._

Marian rocked slightly on the spot as she wrapped her arms around herself. The burning feeling at the back of her throat returned, although the tears were still absent.

She was unsure how long she spent there, lost to the rest of the world in her grief. When she did return to reality, she found herself clutching her necklace. The same one she hadn't let out of her sight since Robin left five months ago. She remembered when he first gave it to her. It had been a birthday present, her fourteenth—Robin was sixteen at the time. It had been around that time that things had started to change between them, when the awkward transition from childhood friends to teenage sweethearts and lovers had begun.

A simple design of two birds, made of pale and darker woods respectively, on a silver branch made up the pendant. It wasn't anything that would be considered fancy at court, in fact it would be looked down on in court as being dreadfully plain, but she'd never parted from it. Just like she and Robin had never been parted for a considerable amount of time before this.

She took the necklace from around her neck and studied it closer. _Always together. Was that what you were trying to say when you gave this to me, Robin?_ Marian gave a short, harsh laugh. _If so, why did you go, Robin? Why did you flit away to war? Why? _

_Why weren't you here for me, Robin? For our son? _

_You should have been here! _She screamed in her mind.

Marian felt the burning in her throat once more. "Were you really so frightened of me, Robin?" she whispered softly to the empty landscape. The only answer she got was the cold breeze that worked it's way through her cloak to send a shiver down her spine. She leant her head back against the tree behind her. She was being unfair. Robin didn't know about the pregnancy when he left. He would never know now.

She closed her eyes, mentally shaking her head at herself. She couldn't even discern her feelings towards Robin anymore. She hated him and loved him at the same time. She hated him for leaving her—and their child. She hated him for thinking he needed to go find glory on the battlefield. She loved him for the good times they'd spent together. She loved him for his cheeky smile and good heart. She still worried about him. Was he safe? Was Much managing to keep him out of trouble? Was even still alive? There were so many questions she had in regards to Robin running through her head. So many. Marian wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answers to some.

She opened her eyes once more. This had to stop. No more fretting over Robin of Locksley. She'd drive herself mad if she kept this up. There were no guarantees that Robin would still be interested in her when he came back, or that he'd come back at all.

She had to let him go.

Not forget. Robin was hardly the forgettable type. Never had been and never would be. Nor could she forget their stillborn son, so small and pale. But she had to stop these thoughts consuming her. They'd always be in her heart, but she had to learn to ignore it. She had to if she wanted to keep all this secret.

Marian held the old pendant up to her face, smelling the familiar scent of silver and wood and, she still liked to fancy, a whiff of the smell that belonged to Robin alone. Getting up, she slowly walked towards the small stone marker that guarded her son's grave and laid down the necklace in front of it.

_I love you both,_ she thought. _But I have to let you both go._

_I'm sorry. _

She turned and walked back towards the house, refusing to let herself look back.

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	4. Barriers

**Chapter Four! With each update about a week apart... you guys are being spoilt. Usually I have so many things going at once that I take forever to update! (Well, I've still got 7-8 unfinished stories going at the moment, including this one, but I've got more inspiration for this one at the moment, count yourselves lucky!)**

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**Chapter 4: Barriers**

Returning to Nottinghamshire—which she did after another two months with Anne—was among some of the hardest things that Marian had to do. Or rather, pretending that everything was fine. That she wasn't a grieving mother. That she was the same as before.

Because whether she wanted to admit it or not, Marian had changed. She was no longer the naïve, albeit stubborn, girl she had been, but a headstrong, opinionated, slightly cynical even, young woman. But there was no doubting that her compassion was still there. In fact, that part of seemed to have grown even more zealous.

She let her father think what he would of her actions, that it was an effort to keep busy and distract herself from Robin's absence. Which it did, in part. But a much larger part of the reason was her stillborn son. Everyday, the peasant children looked at her with big pleading eyes, and Marian's heart broke for them. She wasn't able to help her own child, but surely she could help other children and their families.

Then the new Sheriff came and took over her father's position. Vaysey, his name was. Straight off, he seemed a cold, calculating type, given to bouts of sarcasm and cynicism. But after a few months in the position, he started to come out of his shell even more. And everyone, nobles included, wished he'd stayed in his shell.

The new punishments introduced for even the minor crimes usually involved death or maiming, and a measure of Sheriff Vaysey's sadistic nature was revealed. The old punishments were condemned for being weak and ineffective, and taxes rose to satisfy the man's lust for shiny, precious metals.

Marian was also prevented from helping the peasants, which annoyed her no end, but she knew that her father had only stopped her for fear that this new Sheriff would punish both of them for it, as he was already starting to move against the nobles who disagreed with him too openly. Edward and Marian, although left alone, knew that the Sheriff was watching them, along with others whom he suspected weren't truly behind him.

Eighteen months after Robin's departure, his father James died peacefully in his sleep, and Marian felt a wave of guilt crash over her. He had treated her as if she was his own for years, and she had cared for Robin's father. And he'd never known that he'd had a grandson.

With James' death, and Robin's continued absence, the Huntingdon lands, including Locksley, went into the Stewardship of the Sheriff's lieutenant, Guy of Gisborne.

It made Marian's skin crawl to see that black figure prowling around Locksley, terrifying the villagers. She'd spent a considerable part of her childhood running around Locksley, just as Robin had done in Knighton, and it saddened her to see the formerly vibrant village become so silent and scared.

Another winter passed, and Marian soon found herself facing what would have been her son's second birthday.

She wanted nothing more than to disappear off into the edge of Sherwood forest, let her still present grief bubble to the surface in one of the old haunts she had Robin had found as teenagers. But she couldn't. She and her father were expected in Nottingham for a Noble's meeting in the morning. And then, no doubt, they would be expected to linger for some reason. Giving Gisborne the opportunity to continue following her around like a lovesick dog. And that... that was exactly what she didn't want to face.

Gisborne had been pursuing her almost since he'd appeared. It wasn't that he wasn't handsome, in detached, dark sort of way, but he wasn't Robin. His smile never seemed to reach his eyes, and Marian couldn't spend more than a few moments around him without having to suppress the urge to shudder. Or run. Or both. She'd given Gisborne the cold shoulder since his arrival, but he didn't seem to take the hint.

Guy of Gisborne, it seemed, was not a man who noticed subtle things.

Marian finally got a few moments to herself in the afternoon, and she vanished from Knighton into Sherwood as soon as she could.

Finally, she reached a quiet spot near one of the small creeks that ran through the mighty forest. It was this one day a year when Marian consciously thought of Daniel, and by connection, Robin—although they both found their way into her thoughts at other times anyway. It was the one time that Marian allowed herself to cry over them. When she let all her worries about Robin bubble up to the surface rather than let them fester deep inside her. Marian wondered once more what Daniel would have looked like. When he'd been born, the only feature that had really stood out to Marian was the small thatch of dark hair that had been plastered to his scalp.

Lost in her daydreams, the hours rolled on til the changing shadows of roused Marian. Hurrying back to Knighton Hall, she hoped that her father hadn't realised how long she had been gone.

"Marian, where have you been?" Maybe it was a vain hope that the former Sheriff wouldn't notice the absence of his own daughter.

Marian paused halfway up the stairs that led to her room before turning back to face her father. "I... needed to clear by head," she told him. "And get my temper under control over what's happening in Nottingham," she half-lied. She had to do that all the time, she just hadn't been doing it then.

Edward's face softened. "I know it's hard for you, for any decent person, to not speak out against him. But if we bide our time, he will surely lose in the end."

"We can only pray," Marian replied softly before continuing up the stairs.

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It was later that night, well after her father had fallen asleep, that Marian retrieved the costume she had assembled. Dark brown pants that were flexible enough for fighting and running, a long sleeved leather jerkin of the same colour, a rough brown cape with a hood, a scarf to cover the lower half of her face, and the important mask, which, should anyone see her, would obscure her features.

If the Sheriff was going to stop her from helping the peasants in the open, she'd just have to do it by stealth instead. Maybe it was better this way, even. Peasants wouldn't know it was her, and wouldn't be so wary of her philanthropy, as some of them were previously. She knew that some accused her of only caring to make herself look good. It seemed to be a much easier way, actually.

She strapped her belt on, which had her sword (well, her father's really) already attached to it, and grabbed her longbow.

Besides, if Robin was fighting a war, she could too. Except hers was much closer to home and would help people, unlike the war Robin was embroiled in.

She disappeared silently out of Knighton Hall; her first night as the mysterious person that would soon become known as the Nightwatchman.

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**Let me know what you think! (and hope that the damn Harry Potter bunnies from book 7 leave me alone. I'm having difficulty shaking 'em off!)**


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